


Possibilities

by little_librarian



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angelus Being Creepy, Angst, Kind of Morbid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 18:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2783846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_librarian/pseuds/little_librarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a broken body at his feet and all he can think about is how he can hurt her with it. Post-Passion, companion piece to "Broken"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibilities

As Angelus stands in the stairwell, bathed in the moonlight, he wonders what to do with the now broken body of Jenny Calendar. He could leave her lying on the cold linoleum; it’d make a lovely little surprise for the students of Sunnydale High—maybe someone would even trip over her. But then he decides that that’s too plain, and thinks that he could string her body up in that computer lab that she loved so much. Making the death look like a suicide is never any fun, though—instead, he could arrange her body in that stupid little swivel chair behind her desk, let her sit like a wax figure in a museum until someone realizes that she’s not breathing.

That’s when the great idea hits him: of all the people in Sunnydale, the closest person to Jenny had been Giles. The harder Angelus hurt Giles, the more he hurt Buffy. So he decides to leave a present for Rupert Giles.

Transporting a corpse across town in the middle of the night proves to be a challenge of its own. Angelus doesn't have a car to stow the body in, and travelling through the sewers is out since he doesn't know which access points are near his destination. He sticks to the back alleys, hating every minute that he spends creeping about like a newly-risen vampire looking for an easy kill. He swears that tomorrow he’ll find a meal under the glow of a street lamp. Still, he can’t resist putting the body down for a moment to savor a lost red-headed college girl.

He makes it to Giles’ apartment without being seen by the police or by Buffy and her slay-pals. The door is unlocked—stupid old man—and Angelus walks right in, having been previously invited in to help with some demon or another when he still had a pesky soul. He chuckles at the idiocy of the librarian not to revoke his invitation.

No one is home, but Angelus knows that his time is limited. He glances down at the limp body that he’s holding, and debates settling it on the couch, maybe turning the television on. Or he could arrange the corpse in a chair and position it in the doorway: open the door, be greeted by a dead girl. But then he glances at the stairs and thinks of a better idea.

His footsteps are silent as he ascends the stairs, even with the dead weight he holds. He reaches the top, finds what looks like Giles’ bedroom, and artfully lays Jenny’s body over the covers.

He should leave now, he knows that, but he can’t resist adding some lovely, grotesque flourishes. Outside, he picks rose with meticulous care, and then plucks each petal like a child would, forming a trail from the doorway to the bed. He lights candles with less care, striking matches with vigor and stomping them out when they’re spent. He puts on music as a finishing touch, some soothing piece from the librarian's stuffy collection. The atmosphere he’s created makes for a sharp contrast with the corpse in the bed, and Angelus has never been happier with his work.

He leaves the house as silently as he entered and waits outside the window, obscured by shadows, and fills with glee as he watches Giles discover his dead girlfriend, as he stares in shock and his eyes become glassy with tears. The librarian picks up the phone and the little Slayer arrive minutes later, and she cries and Angelus takes even more pleasure in the display.

These people are his toys, he realizes as he walks away. And he’ll rip their lives apart like a boy ripping the heads from his sister’s dolls.


End file.
